San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1887-01-18
LOVE FOR A DAY.
Y THE AUTHOR OF DORA THoRNE,"
"A DEAD HEART" 1.-TWO KISSES"
b. "THE FATAL LILIES" ETC.
CHAPTER I.

CHATTER i.
Everywhere at Gracedieu was the
scent of lilacs. In no other place did
they grow in such luxuriant profusion.
People came to see the lilacs at Grace
dieu as they 60 to look at the beeches
at Burnham and the chestnuts at
Hampton Court. They were the great
attraction for many weeks, and all the
country round was sweet with their
odor. In well -laid-out grounds. in cot
tage-gardens, in the long green lanes,
at every corner of the pretty streets, in
every nook where there was room for
on the road to the woods, in the
meadows and orchards where they had
no right to be, by the brOokside, nod
ding over the iron ratings of the old
churchyard, were the beautiful tall
plumed lilacs. 1t would be difficult to
say whether they were sweeter in the
evening, in the sunlight, wet with dew,
or stirred by the wind; from the time
they began to bud until the last leaf
dropped from the trees, they made
Gracedieu garden of Eden, land of
delight. The children called them
1.-THE Prince Of Wales's feathers" The
elder folk dated from them; they would
say, "Before the lilacs were out"
"When the lilacs were in bloom" or,
"After the lilacs had faded" The days
they were in flower was time of pleas
ure to all.
This pretty town of Gracedieu, where
lived my happy young life, is in the
fairest part of Devonshire-where the
land is green and fertile, although it
borders on the sea-where the green
lanes are like gardens, and the hedge
rows full of bloom. My father, the
Reverend John Chester, was Rector of
Gracedieu for more than forty years.
His church, an old Norman building,
~ until late in life, and / was his only
child. l remember but little of him.
His name was held in great honor by
the townspeople. My dear mother,
whom 1 lost when 1 was eighteen
years old, was a quiet, gentle, unob-
trusive woman; she had small life
annuity. My father had not been able
to leave her anything; he had insured
his life for a trifling sum, which was in
vested for my benefit, and which brought
me In modest income of twenty pounds
per annum.
In those days the gold of the labur-
mum and the buttercup was more to me
than the glitter of coin. My mother
and thought but little of money. Our
expenditure was quite Within our in
come-the true secret of content. l re-
member no sordid cares, no bills" no
uneasiness as quarter-day came round;
I remember no undue extravaganza.
We had many friends and acquaint-
ances in the town. In the summer af-
ternoons it was pleasant walk to our
house; and, though we could not afford
to entertain grandly, as some of our
wealthy neighbors did, tea in our pretty
gardens, with homemade cakes and
ripe fruit, was pleasant enough. My
mother was a lover OF nature and she
taught me all she knew. l was ac-
quainted with the name of every bird;
I knew their haunts and their habits.
Twas familiar with the trees and the
various grasses, the wild-flowers, the
reeds by the river, the crosses in the
brook; every secret of the sweet coun-
try life was known to and loved by me.
Looking back, / see supplemented
happy child, whose life was poem.
: AS the opening of tragedy is almost
always quiet, so my life, that was to
embody tragedy, began calmly, like
the opening bars of some sweet musical
idyl. From my infancy until | was
seventeen had passed a peaceful, calm,
uneventful existence.
My mother, when her husband died,
went to live at a pretty little villa out
side of Gracedieu, and built Just on the
borders of the Gracedieu woods. When
Twas child, fused to lie for long hours
listening to the wind amongst the trees
of the forest; and while live no music
will be so grand or so sweet to me as
that which it then made.
Our lives were well filled. I rsmsm-